We’ve reached what I like to call the ‘yoga pants period’ of pregnancy. That’s right, the belly is now so humongous that the only thing that can contain it is a yoga pant. Even my favorite fleece pajama bottoms are not roomy enough to accommodate the watermelon growing out the front of me. And while that’s good because it signals the last, final, absolutely-never-again-having-to-do-this point of pregnancy, it also means that for the next 6-9 weeks I need to walk around in my husbands old tshirts and the same pair of lint-collecting yoga pants, everywhere I go. Good thing I don’t ever have anything to DO. 
I’ve been really lucky – even thought my belly is ginormous, my maternity jeans still fit…and I bought new PJ pants that fit too